In Memorium
by Peter James
Summary: He promised to come after her. Though it has been many years in the human world, so many that Chihiro might have forgotten him, Haku kept his promise. Now he must find her... if he can survive the journey.
1. Out Of The Tunnel

Author's Note: Don't stone me, I am doing the best I can to make this accurate. I have sadly only watched the movie five times, and do not own it. I forgot to take notes, so forgive any mistakes. Though I fell instantly in love with the story, as a writer who is no expert on the story, or Japan, I apologize for any blunders, and you are welcome to correct me (as long as it is done gently). I am trying my best with my limited knowledge, and I promise to do more research for the future chapters. I hope that you enjoy the muse I have caught, despite my (as of now, at least) proletarian repute in this fandom. I went back and edited this, in attempt to get my ideas more firmly expressed. My apologies for some confusion and misinterpretations.  
  
Rating Reasons: PG-13 for some graphic monster-associated scary moments, some more mature-themed drama, and romance.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1: Out Of The Tunnel  
  
How much time has passed? Days... months... perhaps years. The turning of seasons is swifter there, on the other side. The human world marches onward at a different pace than ours, the sun flying past while our moon makes its slow journey across the sky. In the human world, it has no doubt been years since she left my world and returned to her own. In my world, it has been only days. Have her memories of me faded to childish dreams? Am I a mere imaginary friend, company no longer kept by one who has grown out of believing in magic? Is she no longer a child with imagination, but a woman who no longer entertains what she deems to be a child's wishful fantasy?  
  
I cannot look back. I must not glance over my shoulder. If I do, I will see my world, and I will be drawn back. It is a powerful spell, as ancient as the dirt of this world, cast by someone long ago in order to protect the gateways to my world. My world. Is it mine? The Spirit World has been my home for so very long, it has become all I know. My river is but a hazy memory, even after I recalled my name with the help of one small human girl. I once was a being of the In- Between Place, a world that was neither entirely of human nor entirely apart from it. I was a Spirit of a river, long since filled in with apartments by the self-destructive humans. When my home, my river, was taken from me, I wandered into the world of the Spirits, and soon that place became another home to me. And yet... what is a home? My river had been my home, but it is lost to me. The Spirit World and the Bathhouse had been another home, but yet I had never truly felt connected to it as such. I did not truly belong there.  
  
What is that human expression that Chihiro used once? Ah yes... home is where the heart is. For all their bad smell and inconsiderate nature, the human who discovered this was very intelligent. For without a love and comfort, a home is just a building. Just bare cold walls and dusty floors that mean nothing. Home, I think, is found in others. For a home is made a place of love and safety only when you have someone to share it with. A family. You need not be connected by blood. We make our own family. Love is what binds a family together, what keeps us strong when we have no one else; a hug to let you know that they are there when you are feeling alone, a hand to hold when you tremble with fear, and a warm smile to fill a rainy day with sunshine. Love is what makes a true home. I have only ever found one sincere home, but like all the others, it was lost to me. But I am on a mission. I must reclaim that home. I must find the only family I ever had. The only person who I have ever really loved.  
  
The plaster of the tunnel is overgrown with moss, smelling of mildew and stagnant water that has pooled in corners. Dead leaves lay in decomposing piles, wet with a recent rain. It is gloomy here, the cloudy sky outside casting the tunnel into midnight darkness. My feet are cold, walking bare upon the dirty stone. I left my sandals at the riverbed, for I wanted to cleanse myself of all that I had left behind. There is no turning back. I have left the Spirit World, and I won't ever return. I promised myself not to. Even if I do not find what I am looking for, I will not be a slave to that meddling witch any longer. Yu-baaba is a shrewd businesswoman, and she takes special care to get something for very little. She strikes deals with those whom she deems worthy, and has the intelligence to twist her words and cause you to believe you are getting a decent exchange even as she cheats you. Our relationship was always very cagey, an eternal race to outsmart one another while keeping the appearance that we were being evenhanded. I do not wish to pretend to serve her anymore.  
  
I feel very small, inside this great tunnel, about to emerge into a world I do not remember. I am very, very old, and yet still always a child in some ways. But I walk with my chin held high. I am not afraid. Fear is not a natural quality in me. Even if I do become afraid of something, my will always triumphs. Emotions can be shaped into something else, and I am nothing if not a master at doing so. If I cannot transform it, I hide it and refuse to feel. Perhaps not the best course of action, but it has never failed me yet.  
  
Lin once told me, her eyes glaring with harsh scorn, that I was an angel made of ice, covered in steel plating sharp as knives. She was right. But ice melts, and then all that is left is cleansing water inside the sharp exterior. I am what I am, and I cannot change the coldness that still lingers about my person. I am no longer Yu-baaba's puppet, heartless as stone, but I am not a gentle little Spirit either. There is a reason that one of my forms is a dragon.  
  
I can see the gray light at the end of the tunnel, only two or so feet away. I pause, but do not glance over my shoulder. To do so would be my undoing. I have seen the spell make even the strongest of beings irrationally turn away from freedom. It draws even the bare minimum of want to return, and magnifies it a thousand times until you can think of nothing but running back the way you came. I will not do that. But I halt all the same, allowing a small aching pang of homesickness to run through me, before I give it all up. Better to extinguish that small flame now, rather than keep it locked within to fester.  
  
I can smell the human world already, the stench that I seem to remember, deep inside myself. A world I once dwelt in, but have been apart from for a very long while. 'Just take one last step, Kohaku. The one last step that will seal your promise;' my heart whispers. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, knowing that with this last pace I will have left my own world and come to a new one that I will be forever bound to live in. I take the step. One foot touches rough forest dirt, and then the other joins it. I am out.  
  
I open my eyes, seeing the gray-daylight lit world for the first time in... what has it been... years? Oh yes, Chihiro fell into my river not so long ago, a few years only in human time, and even less in the Spirit World, and yet... Spirit Time is not trustworthy. Though often it goes much slower than human time, it sometimes bounds ahead in leaps. To me, it had been many years since I had fled the river that had been stolen by greedy humans. Long enough that I had been only a jagged shell of whom I once was when Chihiro first came to Yu- baaba's bathhouse. Long enough that a transformation had taken place in me, changing me from the fierce but soothing Spirit of the Kohaku River to a stony being with eyes of jade- colored steel. But then she came.  
  
She changed me, saved me. She did not even mean to, and yet she did. The ice in me softened, and my stilled heart began to beat once more with the goodness that it once had. Something about her shattered my steel armor, and Yu-baaba's hold on me slipped. I was free at last. Now, I am here to find her. Because I need her, she is all I have left. Without someone you love, home is just walls. Without a home, one is lost. I was lost once, and she found me. Now I must find her.  
  
I look around me, unsure of where to go. I have never been here, that I recall. Which way ought I to go? I raise my face to the cold biting wind, the foretelling airstreams of a coming storm. I listen to the voices of the wind, as they whisper to me with voices innumerable. 'This way.' They murmur. I follow, my bare feet quickly becoming pained for the sharp twigs and thorns littering the forest floor. The path I take is not well worn, seeming rarely trodden. I can hear on the breeze the sounds of modern humanity, alien noises that are strange to me. I can smell the stink of humans, their hate, their deceit, the smell of the good people and the bad, bathed in the toxins that they pollute the air with. My lungs ache with breathing the heavier, dirty air, but I trudge on. Fear, pain, and sadness are strong sensations, but purpose and the power of love are much stronger.  
  
The wind whips about me, urging me onward with gently encouraging whispers. It is falling into night, quickly in these thick woods. I must reach the edge of the city before nightfall. But then where shall I go? I do not even know where Chihiro lives, or if she is even anywhere near. She might be a million miles away. But if she is, I will keep looking. The dying magic of the human world will help me if I have need of it. I have always completed missions better when I have only myself to rely on.  
  
The trees speak in hoarse voices, sick with the world that poisons them, but wanting to help me even so. I know that the wind cannot help me in the city. These winds say it is too filthy there for them to go. I will be alone, and most likely soon lost. But I will find a way. Of this, I am certain.  
  
The lost will be led, and hopefully, found. 


	2. Led By A Whisper

  
  
Chapter 2: Led By A Whisper  
  
The winds tug at my tunic, urging me to walk faster toward the city. Night has fallen, the darkness pierced by the brightly colored lights of the city. It is a small city, I imagine, but to me it looks huge, a hungry animal waiting to swallow me. I seem to be developing a habit of walking into danger.  
  
The lights are so bright, too brilliantly colored, that it seems almost unreal. I hear voices on the stinking city winds; laughter and conversations whirled into a dizzying array of sound that pummels my sensitive ears. I still have a large hill to climb until I reach the outskirts of the city, but already my eyes ache from the glow of buildings clustered so tightly together. I smell food, strange food that I do not recognize the scent of, and hear the sound of clattering pots and yelling of the cooks. In the Spirit World, my heightened senses gave me an advantage, but here, they deliver a headache.  
  
I cough, trying to breath through my mouth rather than nose, so that the smell does not overwhelm me and make my head throb worse. The air is full of toxic gases, dirt and filth and a million smells that are unfamiliar to me. I feel I might be sick. But I will not give up just because of some odor. To a human, these smells are unnoticeable, part of the air they breathe every day, and if I am to be forever a part of this world, I will learn to ignore them too. Soon, I shall come to stink of human, as once Chihiro came to lose her human scent in our world. It is all a matter of adaptation.  
  
I must rest a moment. My legs ache, accustomed to smooth tile floors and hardwood boards. I have not until now realized that even the slaves of Yu-baaba's bathhouse live a very comfortable life, accustomed to plentiful food and warmth and a clean lavish place to live. How spoiled we are. But humans are the ones that have made this world so dirty, so wild, with their wars and machines and spreading populations. I rub my torn feet, wincing at the pain of numerous scratches and the dirt that has worked itself into them. I tear a strip of fabric from each of my pant legs, and tie one around each of my feet. Though it does not cover all of my cuts, it will certainly protect more and give me some relief. Searching in a small pouch that is tied on a cord around my waist, I find a bottle of an herbal liquid, and rub some over the worst of my cuts. I am glad I came at least somewhat prepared. Even so, looking at my battered feet, I miss the life of being an apprentice to a wealthy witch. But I must not think of that. I cannot go back. I will adapt to this world. It cannot be so hard.  
  
I take a deep breath, trying to fill my aching lungs. It has not been customary for me to walk very far or often. In the Spirit World, if I needed to go somewhere, I flew. But I cannot do that now. That was the price that I was forced to pay Yu-baaba in return for my freedom. I was required to surrender my power to change form. Oh, I still have my magic. Even she cannot take that away from me. But I will never fly as a Dragon again. I will be anchored to the ground, like all the humans around me.  
  
I rise shakily, my legs protesting. They demand their life of a delicate slave-child back. I hold my arms out for balance, trying not to fall over from tire and the uneven ground of the hill. I take a moment to reacquaint myself with the irregular ground. The forest winds whisper a farewell, and depart. I am left with the breeze of the city, a much weaker and unfriendly wind. These breezes are ill with poison fumes, angry at my human form. Humans make them sick, with the pollutants they create. But I shake my head, and speak to the winds. I am not whom you ought to be angry with. I wish to help you, I tell them. They are wary, but they feel that I have the power within me that humans do not.  
  
I reach out to gently touch them. Sensing the power of the air in me, they curl around my body, and I try not to cough. I am very tired from my trek this far, but my need to help them is greater. Closing my eyes, I feel the warm tingling of my power spreading through my body, like a geyser emitting its water. My power radiates outward, bathing the sick winds in healing cleansing. They sigh in relief, purged of the poison that weighs them down.  
  
When I reopen my eyes, I am even wearier than before. With Yu- baaba's theft of my other form, she took a large part of me, and my powers now have little to draw on but my own Life Force and willful spirit. The winds thank me, caressing me with warm appreciation. I allow a hint of a smile to touch my lips, the pleasure of a job well done. Will you help me, I ask. They agree, and wrap close around me, shielding me from the smells and dirt of the city air with their newly clean nature.  
  
I begin the long, difficult climb up the hill, crawling so that I will not fall from the steepness of its curve and the slickness of the grass. The grass cuts my hands, sharp blades fed on the filth of the nearby city. I am determined, and I block out any pain or discomfort from my mind, setting it onto a single track: to get up this hill and into the above city. My new friends whisper encouragement, chasing away other city breezes when they try to come near me. For this I am thankful, for to breathe the thick dirty air while my lungs strain with this exercise would be most unpleasant.  
  
At last, I reach the top of the hill, and I allow myself a triumphant smile. I have gone through the forest, and now I am but yards away from the noisy city. "Is it as bad as it smells?" I ask the winds, staring at a building with flashing red and orange lights and loud screeching I assume is music. 'Worse.' They answer. I frown, displeased with this reply. But I have to go on. I must. And so, I thank the breezes for helping me, and set off again. To my surprise, they follow like loyal pups. I smile to myself, glad for friends in this foreign place.  
  
The grass grows more and more sparse as I near the ugly black stone that paves the streets. I pause, my feet on the edge of the dirt road that leads to the rough black stone avenue. I stare at the brightly lit buildings, wondering if Chihiro had ever been in any of them. 'Better to go now than later.' The breezes whisper, and I nod agreement. I step onto the strange black stone. It is even rougher than it appears, and not just dirt but oil and grease cake it. I step as lightly as I can, disgusted to let my already wounded feet acquire this filth in the cuts. I see strange covered wagons, shiny and cased in different colored metals, flying fast in different directions.  
  
I see one approaching too late, and I hear screeching as it attempts to stop in time to avoid hitting me. I react on instinct, my lightning fast movement of running onto the pale gray path beside me the only savior of my life. I feel the wind of the close encounter on my heels, it was that close. I am safe now, though my heart pounds with the speed of a waterfall. I scold myself silently for not taking better care to watch my surroundings. A man sticks his head out of the shining black wagon, and yells at me angrily in a language I don't understand. I ignore him, and decide it is better to walk on the less dangerous appearing gray path. I set off, though his yells follow me for many steps.  
  
I look around as I walk, my senses trying to become accustomed to the brightness and close settings of the buildings. People pass me on the gray path, staring at me as if I were not human. In truth, that assumption would be correct, but I know that I look as human as they. Ah, it must be my clothes. No one I see wears clothes such as mine. My tunic and knee-length pants no doubt look strange to humans dressed in rough long blue pants and loose shirts with pictures on them. But I do not care for what they think. Let them wonder as they will. They do not matter to me, for I am looking for only one person, who once wore clothes much like mine.  
  
I hear the raucous laughter of a drunken human, who stumbles out the door of a colorful building emitting music that rakes my ears like knives. I stop, watching as she sways this way and that, off to somewhere where she might lie down (or so I hoped, for her sake). She waves merrily at me, smiling in a way that only those who are not very aware of their surroundings do. I simply watch her. How strange, these humans. They poison all around them. Their planet, their life- giving trees and rivers, their air, even themselves, and yet they seem so unaware of it. Or perhaps they only do not care. I vow to myself, here and now, that I will do my best not to add to the filth of this world.  
  
The drains lead under the gray path, and I watch as rainbow colored water, thick with oil and chemicals, disappears below. This world is so dirty. How will I ever live here? I will never be like them. 'I must find Chihiro,' I remind myself, 'not stand here brooding on the stupidity of humans'. Not all humans are bad. Chihiro is good as an angel, or was, last I saw her. Has she too been poisoned by her world? I hope not. I resume walking, accompanied by the breezes that are already becoming once again heavy with the city air. 


End file.
